


i expect to get some back

by quakeriders



Category: A Court of Thorns and Roses Series - Sarah J. Maas
Genre: Accidental Sexting, Alternate Universe - Modern Setting, Booty Calls, Crack, Eventual Smut, F/M, Falling In Love, Fluff and Smut, Getting Together, accidental nudes, smut in chapter 3
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-04-21
Updated: 2019-10-08
Packaged: 2020-01-23 10:10:43
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 8
Words: 10,136
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18547672
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/quakeriders/pseuds/quakeriders
Summary: The vibrant shade of cobalt brought out the blue of her own eyes and with her hair gathered up in a high ponytail, she had to admit she looked rather good.Or: In which Feyre buys herself a nice set of lingerie, Mor wants to see some pictures but Feyre accidentally sends them to someone else [aka the accidental nudes au]





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I'm just having fun at this point.

 

Feyre felt stupid.

She had spent half her paycheck on the lacy silk set of underwear that she and Mor had seen at Victoria’s secret last week and now she was standing in front of her mirror with her phone in her hands and trying to find the best angle.

The vibrant shade of cobalt brought out the blue of her own eyes and with her hair gathered up in a high ponytail, she had to admit she looked rather good.

But of course, she had barely gotten home, when Mor had called her, demanding to see it.

“Just send me a pic.” She had told her, hanging up without waiting for Feyre’s answer.

So, here she was.

Feyre took a picture, frowned at the mess of clothing and rumpled sheets visible in the background and took another.

One after another, Feyre found something to dislike in each of the images and after a while, she just damned it all to hell and decided to have fun with it.

She placed one hand on her hip, pushing her chest up and pouting. It was a clear imitation of Mor’s favoured pose when trying to show off her clothes or curves.

Feyre liked that image.

She chuckled and tried again.

After what felt like an eternity, Feyre had selected three pictures that she liked. They weren’t nearly as great as Mor’s, but Feyre had to admit she looked good in them.

The first one was the first picture she had liked.

In the second, she had somehow managed to push her breasts together so tightly that they looked impossibly squishy. Her bottom lip had been caught between her teeth. Her eyes weren’t visible, but her golden-brown hair tumbled over one shoulder and along the curve of one breast.

The third one looked different. Her head was angled, showing off her sharp cheek bone and her lips were parted, her eyes wide and sparkling mysteriously.

She selected the three of them and scrolled through her contacts to send them off to Mor. She followed them up with a message.

Feyre:  _enjoy. i expect to get some back!_ 😘

She was so consumed by the newfound ability to enjoy the sight of herself, that she tossed the phone aside and pulled the tie from her hair and shook it free.

Not a minute passed before her phone buzzed and she reached for with a small smirk on her lips. She knew that Mor hadn’t really expected her to send pictures and -

The name on her screen stopped her heart cold.

It read:  _Mor’s dumb cousin_.

Oh, no.

Fuck, no.

Feyre forgot how to breathe. Her fingers shaking, she had to try four times before managing to unlock her phone. The phone buzzed again and another message popped up on the screen. It indicated that Mor’s dumb cousin had indeed sent an image back.

Her throat dry, she opened up the chat and read.

Mor’s dumb cousin:  _wow_

Mor’s dumb cousin:  _hold on one sec_

And then there was an image of him bare chested and glistening with sweat. It captured him from the neck down, the line of his jaw barely visible. It ended at the waistband of a pair of gym shorts.

She was still gaping at the image - at the golden brown expanse of sharp lines and the curves and dips of muscles, covered in a thin sheet of sweat - when another message popped up.

Mor’s dumb cousin:  _sorry, I don’t have underwear like that to show off_  😉

Mor’s dumb cousin:  _also i’m at the gym right now.. so sorry for the sweaty pic_

Feyre wanted the ground to open up and swallow her whole. She wanted to faint and die. She wanted to zoom in on the picture and study each and every pixel.

She knew that he had seen the tick marks turning blue and knew that she had read his responses. But her mind had stopped working, there was a siren blaring in her ears and all she could think was  _shit, fuck, shit, fuck, fuck, fuck._

She was calling Mor before she had even decided to do so. Her friend picked up on the second ring.

“Hey, babe. I’m still waiting for those pics.” Her bubbly voice said by way of greeting. She could hear the faint sound of pop music playing in the background.

“Mor, I made a mistake.” Feyre choked out, she could feel her face flush a deep shade of red and avoided looking at herself in the mirror.

“What happened?”

She listened to the clink of metal on metal and the crinkling sounds of the phone being shifted from one ear to the other.

“I took the pictures.” Feyre said as if that would explain everything. But somehow she couldn’t bring herself to tell the rest.

“And?” Mor inquired. “Oh, c’mon, I’m not going to post them on the internet. It’s just for fun.”

“No, I know that. I did send them to you.” Feyre said, stumbling over the words. “I just somehow managed to select the wrong contact.”

There was a beat of silence from the other line. Then, “Who?”

Feyre gritted her teeth, insides squirming. “Your dumb fucking cousin.”

The traitor burst out laughing.

It was an ugly laugh, full of wheezing breaths and snorts.

Mor laughed so hard that Feyre let out a scowl and groaned her name.

It took her two whole minutes to control her laughter. But, Mor was still chuckling, when she finally said, “So that’s why he looked so flushed just now.”

“What?” Feyre gasped. “You’re at the gym, too?”

Mor laughed again. “How do you know where he is? Oh no, don’t tell me. He sent an image back? Was that what he was doing? Oh my god, I’m going to smack him.”

But she was still giggling and then a deep voice cut through the sound.

“Why are you laughing?”

Oh, no.

Just hearing his voice was enough for her heart to race and she wanted to bury her flushed face in her pillows and die.

“Give me your phone, Rhys.” Mor said, still giggling obnoxiously.

“No.” He replied immediately, defensively.

Mor let out a cackling laugh and if Feyre had been over there, she would attempt to strangle her friend.

“Those images were meant for me, so.. give me the damn phone, Rhysand.”

“Oh.”

The sound was faint and tinged with something like disappointment and Feyre bit her lip.

“Damn, girl.” Mor whistled after a while. “Do you want me to delete them?”

Feyre scowled. “Yes. But, I still hate you.”

Her voice still tinged with amusement but low enough to be meant for her ears only. “At least you got one in return.”

Feyre hung up without saying goodbye. Then, flung herself onto her bed, cursing Mor and her dumb family soundly as she buried her face in the pillows.


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i'm just having fun at this point

It was two am.

And seven days had passed since Feyre had changed Rhys’ name on her phone from  _Mor’s dumb cousin_  to  _xMor’s dumb cousin_.

But, no one knew that.

No one needed to know that.

Her thumb hovered over the send button and her heart was beating so fast that she was sure, a few ribs had already cracked.

She gathered her courage, having her excuse ready if this should go horribly wrong and hit send.

Feyre:  _you up?_

She waited, watching her screen without blinking until her eyes burned.

Just as she was about to give up and just wait for his response like a normal person, she saw the notification switch to  _online_.

She bit her lip, hard enough to hurt.

Two heartbeats passed and then he began typing.

It took an eternity for his reply to actually reach her.

xMor’s dumb cousin:  _im not mor just fyi_

Here we go, thought to herself.

Feyre:  _oh…_

Feyre:  _but are you actually up?_

Another long pause, the notification telling her that he was typing something.

xMor’s dumb cousin:  _are you asking me to come over?_

He had been over at her place a couple of times. Never alone though. And Feyre’s heart was doing somersaults in her ribcage at the thought of it.

She’d never responded to his flirty taunts, yet here she was. Sending him pictures of herself in underwear, albeit accidentally, and asking for a booty call a week later.

Who was she?

Well, whoever she was, she was going to hell in a handbasket.

Feyre:  _what if i were?_

xMor’s dumb cousin:  _then i’d tell you i’ll be there in 20 mins…_

Feyre let out a startled laugh. And she realised, that she hadn’t thought this far. She had fully expected him to shoot her down completely and now that she had gotten this far, she couldn’t help but think about Rhys showing up here in twenty minutes. Alone.

She rubbed her thighs together as she thought about the instagram profile she’d been stalking for the past week.

None of the images came close to the one he had sent her that day, but he was in shape and being the arrogant asshole he was, he knew it.

He was a fucking showoff, but Feyre really couldn’t complain about that.

There were many,  _many_  shots of isolated muscles, flexed and ready to break steel, on his profile and more than once Feyre had almost liked one of her favourites.

She wouldn’t mind double tapping him in person though.

No, she really wouldn’t.

Feyre: _good. see you in 20_

Feyre flopped onto her back, breathing heavily and her robe fell open, revealing the lacy set underneath. She looked down at herself with a small smile.

The cobalt blue really did do wonders for her complexion.

 


	3. Chapter 3

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> **smut a head, so this part is rated E**
> 
> have fun.

Her doorbell rang and the butterflies in Feyre’s stomach turned wild.

She looked around, checking one last time if her place looked at least halfway decent. Then she was walking up the front door, wondering if she had just made the worst mistake of her life.

Feyre opened the door and found Rhys standing there, wearing dark jeans and a grey hoodie. His hair was wet, as if he’d just taken a shower. And he honestly looked like he had jogged here.

“Hey.” He said, giving her a lopsided grin, his hands in his pockets.

Her heartbeat stumbled and all she could think of was Rhys standing in the shower. Naked and with water dripping down all the curves and hollows of those muscles.

“I don’t have any condoms.” She blurted instead of greeting him like a normal person. Then, she let out a small groan and clapped her hand over her mouth.

That grin widened into a full blown smirk and she could feel could see that he was trying very hard not to laugh.

“That’s okay.” He said, still trying to stifle his laughter. His rubbed the back of his neck, the hoodie riding up and exposing a sliver of skin. “I came prepared.”

Feyre bit her lip, a remark about him  _coming_  already on the tip of her tongue. She swallowed it and wanted to sink into the ground or just to slam the door in his face and act like this never happened.

Instead, she just took a step back and held the door open for him. He didn’t take his eyes off her, as he entered. However, that amused expression turned a little more serious.

“You don’t do this often, do you?”

“What?” Feyre asked breathlessly, pushing the door shut and avoiding looking into his eyes at all costs. She fixed her eyes on his chest, which was in her direct line of sight.

“Calling a guy over in the middle of the night.” He supplied helpfully and she could feel that teasing smirk on his face.

And just like that all her fluttering nerves froze and she scowled. Feyre looked up at him, brows lifting. “No, usually it’s the guys that call me.”

Rhys’ lips quirked up. “Why, Feyre darling, I’m flattered.”

She snorted and turned on her heel to plop down on the couch. “Don’t be. Your name was the first on the list.”

Liar.

She was a damn liar. His name was literally at the bottom of her contact list now.

But he didn’t know that.

Still, she caught him rolling his eyes from the corner of hers. Then he was on the couch beside her, close enough for their legs to brush; his wrapped in tight-fitting jeans, hers barely covered by her robe.

“So…” Rhys sighed, stretching out his legs, his jeans rubbing against her thigh in a way that made her suppress a shiver. He threw one arm over the back of the couch, barely brushing against her shoulders. “Did you just call me here to throw insults at me?”

“No.” Feyre ground out and felt him shift his body towards her.

She turned her face and found Rhys smirking again. “Then why did you text me at 2 am, darling?”

His eyes were sparkling with something like mischief and Feyre had to bite back another scowl.

Oh, what the hell!

He was here.

Clearly, he wanted this as much as she did.

And she did want him.

Feyre twisted on the couch, throwing one leg over his lap and straddling him. “Why do you think?”

He seemed too surprised to speak, so Feyre used the moment to untie the belt that held her robe together.

His eyes went impossibly wide when the silk slipped down her shoulders and revealed the lingerie she had accidentally showed him once before.

“You always walk around looking like that?” Rhys asked, his voice hoarse.

Feyre seriously considered doing just that if it meant that Rhys would keep looking at her like that.

He placed his hands on her waist, sliding up and around her back slowly and down again. Feyre pushed closer, head tilting back, as she let out a soft groan.

“Why do you ask?” She gasped, as his lips brushed against her throat.

“Because looking this good should be illegal.” He replied and it was Feyre’s turn to chuckle.

His hands finally came up to cup her breasts and they both groaned at the same time. Rhys kneaded her breasts with enough force to send a lick of flame straight to her core, then flicked his thumb over her hardening nipples.

“I wanted to do this ever since I saw those picture.” Rhys muttered against her skin, kissing down to her collarbones.

Feyre ground down on him, finding him already hard beneath her. Her robe had pooled around her hips and she slid her hands up into Rhys’ hair, nails scraping against scalp.

She kept rocking her hips against him even as his lips ghosted over her bra and sucked on a nipple through the fabric.

“Fuck.” Feyre gasped, letting her hands drop to his shoulders and finding nothing but fabric there. “You’re wearing too many clothes.”

He lifted his lips from her and hastily pulled his hoodie over his head.

“Better.” Feyre whispered, then placed her hands on his shoulders, running them down his arms, nails scraping lightly, then up again.

Rhys’ hands had wandered down to her hips, pushing the robe away from her completely. Feyre leaned in to place a kiss to his chest, to his shoulder and then up his neck until she found the hard contour of his jaw.

She couldn’t help herself, she dragged her teeth lightly against the sharp angle there and Rhys’ hips thrust up and into her with enough force to make her bite down harder.

“Shit.” Rhys groaned, fingers flexing at her hips, fingers digging into her soft skin.

Feyre smiled as she kept kissing her way towards his lips and Rhys let out a low growl when she finally found them and pulled his bottom lip between her teeth, tugging lightly.

His hands slid up her back, callouses scraping over her skin and sending jolts of electricity through her. And then one hand wrapped around the back of her neck, pushing her closer to him and the other ran through her hair.

“Do that again.” Feyre said and Rhys let out a low chuckle.

But he thrust up again and Feyre had to bite back a moan. He did it again and their breath mingled as they lips brushed without kissing.

Feyre opened her eyes to find his already on her.

“You like that?” He asked her and despite the smugness in his voice, he sounded utterly wrecked.

“I’ve had better.” Feyre replied, capturing his lips to kiss him properly.

He let out something like a snarl, playful yet urgent enough to thrill her. Then he was holding her by the waist, hoisting her up like she weighted nothing.

Feyre let out a little shriek as her back was pressed into the couch and Rhys smoothly slid over her, pushing her legs apart to settle between them.

“Oh, Feyre, you should not have said that.”

His voice was low and dark, rumbling against her stomach, where his hips now pressed slow kisses into her skin. And Feyre had to bite back a moan at the silent promise in that tone.

Rhys’ fingers brushed over her underwear as he took in the sight before him. Then his fingers hooked through her underwear and she angled her hips for him to slide them down her legs.

He took his sweet time with it, though.

His fingers pressed into her skin, leaving fire in their wake as Rhys slid the lace down her thighs, her knees and finally over one ankle, then the other.

He kissed his way back up, pushing one down leg to the side and placing the other over his shoulder. Feyre dug her heel into his muscled back and felt them shift underneath her touch.

Fuck, she thought she might come before he even touched her.

The throbbing between her legs was relentless and he settled there, pressing one palm flat on her inner thigh to spread her fully for him. She could feel his breath against her and exhaled sharply through her nose, trying to calm her racing heart.

His mouth was so close now that each one of his breaths fanned over her burning skin. She realised through the fog in her mind that the bastard was doing it on purpose.

And she knew that he was waiting for her to break and beg him for more.

Instead Feyre just slid her foot up until she found his neck and pressed him closer to her. At the same time, she lifted her hips.

Rhys let out a low chuckle but finally put his mouth on her.

A deep moan tore from her throat as his tongue darted out and licked up in a long, heavy stripe. Then he was flicking it over her clit and Feyre could have sworn that stars exploded behind her eyelids.

She was already strung so tightly that her orgasm crashed over her by the time his lips wrapped around her clit and sucked. Feyre shuddered, spine curling inwards and was gasping, desperate for air.

Rhys’ kissed her inner thigh almost lazily as she came down form the high and when her muscles relaxed, he went back to work.

She was still sensitive from the first time and after Rhys slipped a finger into her, Feyre shattered around him for a second time. She was holding onto the edge of the couch, torn between begging him to stop and go on forever.

“Still had better, Feyre darling?” Rhys asked, looking up at her.

His chin was dripping wet and two fingers were slowly pumping into her. Feyre let out a groan and threw her head back, unable to reply.

Actually, she was unable to do anything but let him work her until she fell apart completely.

Again. And again.


	4. Chapter 4

Feyre woke up in her bed, safely tucked under the covers. Something was digging uncomfortably into her ribcage and she twisted, frowning slightly. She was still wearing the lace bra and let out a low groan, when she finally managed to unclasp it and fell back into the mattress. She couldn’t remember the last time, she had felt this sore without going to the gym.

And then she remembered  _why_  she was so sore.

Remembered, that they hadn’t even managed to make it into the bedroom that night.

Come to think of it, Feyre hadn’t even managed to get his pants off.

Rhys had just kept going, shattering her world again and again, until her body turned to jelly and even opening her eyes had become impossible.

She must have fallen asleep on the couch, because she definitely didn’t remember getting into bed. Or seeing Rhys leave.

Her face burned. She wanted to pull the covers over her head and just wallow in misery for a while. Or eternity.

Instead, she looked for her phone and found it on her nightstand. Rhys had sent her a message at six am.

xMor’s dumb cousin:  _that was fun. we should do it again sometime._

Feyre managed to suppress a roll of her eyes and a smirk, then got up. She took a shower and ate breakfast. But she ignored the message. Not because she didn’t want to do it again, but because she didn’t know what to think.

So, like the coward she was, Feyre didn’t reply. Instead, she called Mor while drinking a cup of coffee.

“Good morning, babe.” Mor chirped and Feyre immediately rolled her eyes. “Ugh, how can you be so bubbly at 8 am?”

“I’m on my way to the gym.” Mor said. “And I have a bucket of iced coffee. What else could a girl want?”

“Some company?” Feyre asked hopefully.

Mor let out a little shriek. “Feyre Archeron is going to work out with me? Did someone hit you over the head?”

Feyre chuckled and swallowed the rest of her coffee. “Shut up. I’ll be there in fifteen minutes.”

“Great, see you then.”

They hung up and Feyre dug through her drawer for a set of work out clothes.

Seriously, being friends with Mor had definitely given her an appreciation for matching outfits for every occasion.

Before, Feyre had worked out in old pairs of leggings and the oldest, loosest tank tops in her closet. But then she had taken one look at Mor’s matching sets of leggings and sports bras in vibrant colours and gotten two sets of her own.

There was no need to buy twenty of them like Mor, since they were expensive and as Mor had indicated, Feyre only ever went to the gym when she had to work through something.

Breakups were usually when she found herself at the gym. Or other emotionally taxing situations.

It seemed that whatever Rhys and she had done last night, was such a situation.

She slipped into the teal high waisted leggings and pulled on the matching sports bra. It was cold enough for her to dig up a cropped sweatshirt and pull it over her head as well.

Her gym bag was shoved in one corner of her closet and she peeked into it to make sure that everything was still packed.

Then, she grabbed her keys and phone and was out the door.

—

Mor’s ruby red lipstick matched her outfit. “It’s leg day.” She informed Feyre by way of greeting. “That is, if you want to stick with me.”

Feyre just shrugged. “Sure, why not.”

Feyre was in the process of pulling her hair up into a high ponytail when she spotted the tall figure walking towards them. Her mouth went dry and she almost dropped her hands.

“Rhys!” Mor shrieked, lunging for him and enveloping in a tight hug. “I didn’t know you’d be here.”

Their eyes met over Mor’s shoulder. He gave her a small grin, wrapping his arms around his cousin. Then, his eyes trailed down her body, taking in the clothes. Feyre swallowed hard and finished tying off her hair.

“Hey.” She finally said, when the cousins broke apart.

“Oh, you guys haven’t spoken since the incident, have you?” Mor asked, rubbing the back of her neck, lips pressed into a tight line to stop a grin.

Neither of them replied.

Rhys just kept looking at her. Waiting for her to answer.

Feyre shrugged, unable to lie and unwilling to tell Mor the truth. “So, where do we start?”

“Cardio. I’m going to let the stair master wreck my life.” Mor told her, turning her back to Rhys and pulling Feyre along. “Bye, Rhysie!”

Feyre heard his soft chuckle and remembered how that chuckle had felt against her skin. And how he had utterly wrecked her life only a few hours ago.

—

Mor’s workout routine was going to kill her.

They had barely gotten through her warm up and Feyre already felt shaky. She had taken off her sweatshirt, sweat sticking to every inch of her skin, her breathing ragged.

And when they approached the free weights section, Feyre almost choked on her breaths.

Rhys was there.

He’d taken off the hoodie and she could see the muscles in his arms and back shift as he lifted a bar that had more weight on it than her bodyweight.

Her mouth went dry and she could hear her blood pounding in her ears.

Mor, observant as she was, noted the dumbstruck look in Feyre’s face and rolled her eyes. “Oh, stop that.” She hissed, crinkling her nose. “He’s probably seen us coming and is putting on a show.”

Feyre didn’t reply. She was too busy drinking in the sight before her. And she was glad when she saw the thin wire that wrapped around his neck. He had earphones in and couldn’t hear Mor’s words.

Mor said something else but Feyre just kept looking at him. She licked her lips as her eyes trailed down his wide shoulders to where it narrowed and then traced the curves of his ass and legs. He was crouching in a squad and it did wonders for his backside.

Oh, holy fuck.

Feyre had never thought she would think of gym shorts as something that could look sexy.

And stood up again, then he stopped moving altogether. He didn’t put the weights down, didn’t get into another position. He didn’t do anything but tilt his head and after a heartbeat Feyre knew why.

Rhys was standing before a wall of mirrors.

And his eyes were on her.

Heat crept up her neck and face and she released her bottom lip from between her teeth.

A slow smirk spread across his mouth and Feyre honestly didn’t know how she kept ending up in situations like this.

He winked at her and then placed the weights down.

“Enjoying the show, Feyre darling?” Rhys asked, turning to face her and pulling out his headphones.

She scowled. “No.”

When he simply quirked his eyebrows suggestively, Feyre added, “I was going to critique your form, actually. You could pull a muscle if stand like that.”

He chuckled, wiping his sweaty face with a towel. “How about you show me how it’s done?”

Feyre looked up at him. Looked at that smug face, because he knew he had caught her. But there was something else there, like he was remembering last night and just to get away from that intense look in his eyes, Feyre nodded. “Sure, I’m always happy to help.”

She walked around him, looked at the weights piled up on the bar and went to take some off. Show off, indeed.

Rhys had crossed his arms over his chest and Feyre tried very hard not to ogle him again. His biceps were making it very hard for her.

And then she got into position, gave him a small smirk and bent down.

Rhys watched her through the mirror and Feyre saw the exact moment he broke. His eyes left her face and trailed down her back and stopped at her ass. And if Feyre was honest with herself, she was doing it on purpose, the way she kept the position for a little longer than necessary, the burn and stretch of muscles a welcome distraction to the heat that rushed through her.

It was his turn to lick his lips. He took a step closer and spoke in a low, rough voice, “You didn’t reply to my text.”

Feyre rose, groaning a little as she did so. “I’ve been busy.”

His lips twisted and Feyre took a deep breath, before crouching again. “Are you too busy to answer now?”

“No.”

“No, you’re not busy or no, you don’t want to do it again.” He pressed and this time his eyes stayed on hers through the mirror.

“No, I’m not too busy.” Feyre bit out as she straightened again. She cracked her neck, her ponytail swishing this way and that and his eyes got sidetracked.

Only when she lowered herself a third time, did he speak again. “So?”

“Yeah.” Feyre gasped, standing up again. “How about right now?”

The grin he gave her made her heart stop. “Right now?”

Feyre dropped the weights with a soft thud and turned to look at him. “I mean, I would prefer to go somewhere a little more private, but yeah.”

He didn’t bother to reply. Instead, he just grabbed for her hand and pulled her towards the changing rooms.

 


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> a short addition bc i'm sick  
> enjoy!

If Mor had seen them stumbling away, Feyre didn’t know.

Actually, she didn’t even care as Rhys’ hands slid up and down her body, pulling her close to him and his breath fanned over her face.

Her heart was beating wildly in her chest as their lips met, hard and fast, and she groaned into his mouth. A desperate, needy little sound she would have hated if she wasn’t beyond caring.

They barely made it three steps into the hallway when he pressed her into the wall and Feyre threaded her fingers through his hair, standing on her toes to better reach him.

He tasted like coffee and peppermint and Feyre never, ever wanted to stop kissing him.

Rhys’ hands wrapped around her thighs and when he hoisted her up, she wrapped her legs around his waist. Gripping his shoulders to steady herself, Feyre let her head fall back against the wall with a small thud and bit down on her tongue to stop from moaning.

His mouth was on her neck, sucking and kissing and biting and she ground down on him, desperate for any friction between them.

Rhys’ hands dug into her ass, pressing her closer yet and Feyre’s hands slid up his neck and back into his hair again. She could feel the sweat on his skin, could smell it and she wanted nothing but to taste it, too.

Someone coughed and they both froze.

Rhys lifted his head from her neck, but didn’t let go of her. Which was good, because she wasn’t sure if her shaky legs would be able to carry her.

“Good morning.” A cocky voice she knew all too well drawled.

Feyre closed her eyes, groaning.

“Piss off, Cassian.” Rhys said, his mouth still close enough for her to feel his breath.

Cassian chuckled. “You do realise that I work here, Rhysie, don’t you? And that what you’re doing is  _strictly_  against our regulations.”

She heard him come closer. “Besides, Mor has been looking for you, Feyre. Worried that her work out was too much for you. But, since you’re fit enough to do some acrobatics-”

“Shut up, Cassian.” Feyre groaned again. She wanted to snap at him, to order him to leave and tell Mor that she was busy. But she wasn’t so far gone to do that. Instead she pushed Rhys hard enough for him to lower her back to the floor.

Indeed, her legs felt shaky. Either from the work out or Rhys.

Feyre wiped her mouth with the back of her hand. Then ran both hands over her hair to flatten the strands that had come out of her ponytail and swallowed hard.

“I gotta go.” She didn’t look at Rhys as she pushed past him and Cassian and left the hallway.

-

Mor was doing hip thrusts when Feyre found her. She gave Feyre a dazzling smile and inquired, “Finished teaching my dear cousin how it’s done?”

“What?” Feyre gasped, eyes widening.

“The squads, Feyre.” Mor said, frowning a little.

“Oh, yeah.” Feyre said quickly, nodding. “Yeah, I did do that.”

Mor chuckled, her eyes crinkling and Feyre felt her face flush, despite her best efforts.

“I’m gonna go do some cardio.” Feyre said, retying her hair. Her heart was still beating way too fast and she needed a way to relieve the pressure that had built inside her.

Mor grunted in acknowledgement and kept exercising.

On her way to the thread mill, Feyre fished out her phone and sent a text to Rhys:  _my place, tonight?_

His reply came almost immediately.

xMor’s dumb cousin:  _it would be my absolute pleasure ;)_

She rolled her eyes at his reply. Then, silently cursing Cassian, Feyre got on the thread mill and set a brutal pace.


	6. Chapter 6

Feyre didn’t know what to do.

Honestly, she should have seen this one coming.

She sat in the backseat of Mor’s car, her hair still dripping wet from her shower, with Cassian’s arm lazily draped over her shoulders.

Somehow, the end of his shift had coincided with the moment that Mor and her were done with their workout. And of course - _of fucking course -_ Rhysand had been there, too.

Cassian being the jerk he was, had flashed her a secretive grin and suggested casually, “Why don’t we go to my place?”

Mor had agreed after a second of consideration by saying, “Only if you feed us.”

So, here they were. Feyre looking anywhere but the mop of black hair in the seat before her, trying desperately not to think about how it had felt running her fingers through it.

Each time she shifted in her seat, Cassian let out an amused little sound and Rhys’ shoulders tensed a bit more.

Mor seemed to pick up on the weird vibe, but somehow decided not to approach the subject. Likely, because she thought this was still about the pictures.

The air in the car seemed thick and stifling and Feyre had the irrational urge to just yell  _I made out with your cousin_  to her best friend. But she couldn’t bring herself to say it with Cassian and his shit-eating grin clouding the edge of her vision.

Cassian’s apartment was close enough to the gym and soon, she was stumbling out of the car and breathed deeply.

The elevator ride was worse. Feyre almost took the stairs up to the tenth floor just to avoid the heavy looks of all three of her companions.

Cassian was still grinning. Mor now looked a little confused and worried. And Rhys was glaring at Cassian.

And Feyre just clenched her fingers and ignored them all.

Until they walked into the small, sparsely decorated apartment and Cassian made his way into the kitchen and Rhys followed him.

Mor turned to her, opening her mouth but Feyre shook her head. She grabbed Mor’s hand and pulled her through the first door she could find.

They ended up in a small, but surprisingly pristine bathroom.

Feyre closed the door, ignoring Mor’s raised eyebrows and swallowed hard.

“What’s going on?”

Feyre breathed deeply and squared her shoulders. “I made out with Rhys.”

Mor’s mouth popped open.

If it had been any other situation, the look of utter shock on her face would have been comical.

“Twice.”

Mor closed her mouth. Opened it, then closed it again. Her brown eyes were wide and something flickered in them.

And then her lips tugged up slowly, bottom lip quivering and she began bouncing on the heels of her feet.

“I knew it.” She whisper-shouted, grabbing Feyre by the shoulders and giggling like a five year old. “Oh, I knew it!”

Now it was Feyre’s turn to gape at her. Whatever she had been expecting, this wasn’t it. Also, something about her reaction made Feyre’s stomach clench.

Mor was a romantic at heart and the way she was looking at Feyre now, made her think back to the last romantic comedy they had watched and what Mor’s reaction to it had been.

“You’re perfect for each other.” Mor beamed and pulled her into tight hug.

But Feyre was already shaking her head. “No, Mor, it’s not like that.”

Her smile faltered. “What do you mean?”

Feyre stepped out of Mor’s embrace and ran a hand through her hair. It was still damp and it was beginning to curl slightly. She swallowed, looking for the right words. “He’s hot.” Mor made a face. “Like, very hot. But it’s not like we’re in love or something. It just that he’s stupidly good-looking and a really good kisser-”

“Ok, let me stop you right there before I throw up.” Mor cut in, wrinkling her nose. “I get that you’re attracted to him.” She grimaced again. “But do you mind telling me  _how_  exactly you ended up making out? Twice?”

Feyre fought against her blush and did not look into Mor’s eyes, when she said, “I might have texted him last night, asking if he wanted to come over.”

“Feyre Archeron!” Mor shrieked, looking disapproving and proud at the same time. “You did not.”

Feyre bit back a groan or grin - she wasn’t entirely sure which one would come out. “I did.”

“And he came. Came over, I mean. I’m not asking about what you guys did. Although, what did you guys do? You didn’t have sex, right?” Mor’s words were a jumbled mess and Feyre barely kept up.

“He came over. No, we did not have sex.” Feyre told her. And then she remembered how Rhys had basically wrecked her life and ruined her last night. “But god  _damn_ , Mor.”

“Ugh, no.” Mor turned away, grinning. “No, details please.”

“Fine.” Feyre shrugged, grinning herself. She wasn’t sure why she thought that Mor would react badly. But then she remembered that they were in Cassian’s bathroom and Mor’s initial - and very loud - reaction had probably been heard in the kitchen.

“Um, so Cassian caught us making out earlier.” Feyre said a bit timidly.

At that Mor let out a cackle so loud that it echoed off the tiled walls. “That’s why you disappeared?”

“Yeah, I mean-” Feyre shrugged, sighing deeply. “This was supposed to be a bit of fun and then I fell asleep and today I just wanted to spend some time with you but then he showed up again and he’s just so goddamn good at what he does. And honestly I would have let him fuck me right there in that sweaty changing room-”

“Okay, whoa.” Mor cut in, grinning. “Wait, wait. There’s a lot to unpack there, but you fell asleep?”

Feyre knew her face must have been flaming red. “You said no details.”

“Yeah, like about the size of his dick, not that you freaking fell asleep, Fey.” Mor groaned, looking for the first time disapproving.

The sound of a throat clearing right outside the door had both of them snapping their heads towards it and then Cassian’s sheepish voice said, “The walls are very thin, I thought I’d let you know that before you continue this conversation.”

Feyre’s felt like it was in flames.

Mor bit her lip, her brown eyes glittering with amusement and Feyre just scowled at her. At her, at the closed door and her heart sunk as she thought about going back into the living room and facing Rhys.

“You good?” Mor whispered, sobering up a little.

Feyre didn’t know how to reply to that. She just brushed her hair out of her face and took a deep breath. Then she straightened her shoulders and lifted her chin. “Yeah.”

Mor opened the door and the first thing Feyre saw was a Cassian, who was grinning down at her, his hazel eyes full of mischief. Mor noted that look and with a click of her tongue, shoved passed him by poking him in his side.

He groaned and Feyre’s smugness was short-lived as her eyes drifted over to the other person in the room.

Rhys was looking at her, like they were the only two people in the world and she froze halfway through taking another step.

“Cassian.” Mor said, painfully loud in the silent room.

He grunted in response, watching Feyre and Rhysand just looking at each other.

“I think you told me, you’re out of food.” Mor said, slipping her arm into his.

“No, I have some left-” His confused reply was cut short, when Mor cut in. “That won’t be enough for all of us. Let’s go.” And with the subtlety of a flying brick, Mor pulled him out of the front door and left her best friend and her cousin to awkwardly look at each other. “We’ll be back soon.” She trilled right before the door fell shut and Feyre swallowed hard.

“So.” Rhys said, rubbing the back of his neck with one hand and slipping the other into his pocket.

“So.” Feyre replied, chewing on her bottom lip and shifting from one foot onto the other.


	7. Chapter 7

It had suddenly become very hard to look at anything but her feet. Also, had it been this hot in the room before? Feyre let out a breath and forced herself to look up.

Halfway through the motion her courage left her and she ended up looking at Rhys’ chest. At the chest that was covered by a thin black cotton shirt that was tight enough to show the cut of his muscles.

She swallowed hard. Then, swallowed again. “How much of that did you hear?”

A beat of silence followed and Feyre dared to raise her eyes a little higher. She stopped at his jawline, watching him nervously lick his lips, then bite the lower one. “Enough.”

His voice wasn’t nearly as quietly worried as hers and that was what made her finally look into his eyes. He was already looking at her, a strange warmth in them.

At her raised eyebrow, he gave her a roguish smirk and said in a slightly high pitched voice, “We didn’t have sex. But  _god damn_ , Mor.”

Feyre groaned, blushing and fighting a smile at the same time. She bit her lip, shaking her head and dared a step closer. “So, what?”

Rhys took a step closer, too, shrugging his shoulders lazily but still smirking like a cat. “Nothing. I just particularly liked that bit.”

“Yeah?” Feyre asked, feeling breathless and tilting her head back to more easily look at him. The space between them had disappeared rapidly and much too soon, he was standing before her, his head tilted down, hands out of his pockets.

“Yeah.” He replied. It sounded more like a sigh and she felt his breath across her face. She tried to hide her shiver, but the way his grin widened told her, he could tell.

Her heart was beating rapidly in her chest and despite the mortification of having this - whatever this was - out in the open, she couldn’t help but be glad for this moment. Her and Rhys, alone, standing close enough to share breath and looking at each other like.. like..

“What are we doing, Rhys?” Feyre asked, suddenly. “What is this?”

Something flashed across his face. Feyre might have thought it was panic, but she couldn’t be sure.

Rhys slid one of his hands back into his pocket and despite not moving, it felt as though there was more space between them now. “What do you think this is, Feyre?”

She hadn’t lied to Mor. She hadn’t thought of this as more than just two people having fun. But, with the way he looked at her and the way her body reacted to that, it felt like more than just a casual thing. But, she wouldn’t be the one to say that. Not to him of all people. Rhys was Rhys.

He had over two hundred thousand followers on his instagram, most of them girls who were hoping for him to get in their pants and the guy who was all flirty remarks and jokes. She wouldn’t be the stupid girl, who fell for him when he was just looking to have some fun.

So, Feyre steeled herself and cocked her head and gave him a casual, dismissing shrug. “A bit of fun. Just letting off some steam and distracting ourselves from life.”

Rhys looked at her for a long moment. He didn’t breathe, didn’t blink, didn’t move an inch. And then his lips pulled back into a smirk and he asked, “Is that all I am to you? Fun and distraction?”

“Yeah.” She said and added quickly, “Isn’t that what I am to you?”

“Sure, Feyre.” Rhys replied, winking at her and giving her that smile that made all the girls melt. “Whatever you want, darling.”

She couldn’t help but feel that the air between them felt different somehow. Maybe, he hadn’t bought her half-assed attempt to deflect. Maybe, he thought she was in love with him. And that thought alone made her fume.

“I’m not some hopeless girl, who falls in love with every guy she hooks up with, so stop looking at me like that.” Her voice were cold and she had the sudden urge to cross her arms.

“I didn’t say that.” His voice was suddenly defensive. “And I didn’t think it either. But you shouldn’t be so quick to assume, that I’m not the type of guy that falls for the smartest and prettiest girl he has ever seen.”

Her mouth fell open. “I- what?”

He let out a humourless laugh. “Listen, Feyre. I don’t know what’s happening and I wasn’t going to assume anything, but I thought that we had a connection. That we had the potential to be more than just fuck buddies.”

Feyre made a face at the words and he gave her a grim smile.

“But if all you want from me is sex, then that’s fine, too. I appreciate your honesty.”

“Wow.” Feyre gasped. “Ok, wait. Stop.”

Her mind was a mess. Full of jumbled thoughts and she couldn’t help but note the defeated look in his eyes.

When she spoke next, her voice was lower and tinted with something, she didn’t want to call hope. “You think I’m the smartest and prettiest girl you have ever seen?”

He rolled his eyes. Actually rolled his eyes, but the beginnings of a smile were tugging at his lips. “I don’t think, I know. There’s no one in this world, smarter or more attractive than you. Why do you think I was flirting with you all. the. time?”

Feyre was sure she was gaping. “But- but you flirt with everyone.”

“Do I?” He asked and leaned closer. Suddenly the air felt heated again and Feyre’s mind flashed back to the many times they had gone out together.

She remembered girls walking up to him. Remembered him laughing and talking, but she didn’t remember a single instance of him leaving with one. Maybe she had been too caught up in her own tangled romantic affairs, but she had always assumed that he was a heartbreaker. But now, thinking about it, the only times he did flirt, it had been with her.

It felt as though the world had slipped from underneath her feet and she was reeling. Their eyes met and Feyre could do nothing but stare at him.

“Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I did.” He said, giving her a sad smile. “I didn’t think there was a way for me to be more obvious in stating my interest, but here we are.”

“Oh my god.” Feyre whispered, more to herself and then she was biting her lip. “I’m so sorry.” She thought back to all the times, she had his flirting and compliments as mindless teasing or him just being him.

“For what?” Rhys asked, brows furrowing. “You don’t owe me an apology. You don’t owe me anything.”

“No, I know that.” Feyre said quickly. “But I’m sorry for dismissing you. For all the times I just didn’t see you.”

Slowly, he gave her a smile. A smile that was at once sad and breathtaking and unwillingly, Feyre’s eyes began to fill with tears.

His smile faded and then he was reaching out for her, cupping her cheeks and whispering, “Please, don’t cry.”

But her tears were already falling and Feyre covered his hands with her own, loosing a sob and then laughing. “I’m sorry. I just- you aren’t just fun and distraction. You’re-”

She let out another sob. “You’re more than that.” She whispered and leaned up on her toes to press her lips to his. She could feel the wetness of her tears on their lips, could feel his tongue slipping out and when they were kissing, it tasted of salt and mint and coffee and something like relief.


	8. Chapter 8

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> you can thank @nomattertheoceans for this update. she bribed me with this wonderfully fluffy feysand pregnancy fic ([tumblr](https://nomattertheoceans.tumblr.com/post/188185363866/imadeyouapromisefeysand-pregnancy) | [ao3](https://archiveofourown.org/works/20937473)) 🥰

Feyre wasn’t sure how long they stood there, in the middle of Cassian’s apartment, lazily kissing each other, until eventually their breathing turned ragged and Rhys’ hands slid up her back to tangle in her hair.

"Feyre-" He muttered, his lips moving against her as he pressed his forehead to hers.

She wasn’t ready to let go of him yet, so she just trailed open-mouthed kisses down his jaw and slowly drifting down his neck until Rhys’ grip tightened on her and his hand flattened on the small of her back, pulling her even closer.

She let out a soft hum, sucking at the soft skin of his neck, her own hands exploring his arms, his chest, his stomach. The strong muscles shifted beneath her touch, clenching and unclenching as she dug in deeper and traced every dip and curve.

Feyre wanted to follow those lines with her lips, her tongue, her teeth. She wanted Rhysand to lie down and take her sweet time exploring his body. She wanted him to break apart underneath her touch like she had the night before.

But her plans were rudely interrupted when the door opened and Cassian and Mor entered the apartment.

Feyre stepped away from Rhys, her hands hesitant to let go of him just yet and he seemed to feel the same way. His grip on her back eased but his hand stayed there as she turned to face the doorway.

Cassian’s eyes were filled with mirth. "We gotta stop meeting like this, you guys."

Mor snorted, boxing his upper arm and looking mildly apologetic as she stepped into the apartment. She placed the two bags of take-out on the coffee table in the middle of the room.

"Um, we brought food?" She said, her voice rising at the end making it sound like a question.

Cassian shut the door loudly and Feyre’s hand finally slipped from where it had been bunched in Rhys’ shirt. Almost as if it was a silent cue, Rhys’ own hand let go of her and she immediately missed the steady warmth of his palm against her back. She had half a mind to pull Rhys out of the apartment and take him home to continue what they had started.

Her grumbling stomach was what made her stay though. They could eat first, later they could pick up where they had left off.

"What did you get?" Feyre asked, pleased to find her voice steady despite the shakiness in her limbs.

Mor shot Rhys a questioning look before looking back at Feyre and replying, "Chinese."

Feyre made a low sound of satisfaction and left Rhys’ side to dig out one container for herself. "Good, I’m starving."

She had been too absorbed in opening the box, but Rhys sighed loudly and spoke with a warning undertone, "Don’t say anything, Cass."

Cassian, who obviously had been ready for another snarky, suggestive remark, just shrugged his shoulders and reached for a box himself. "Fine, fine, I’ll keep my thoughts to myself."

Feyre ended up sitting between Rhys and Mor on the couch, while Cassian lounged sideways on the single armchair. The tv was on, but the sound barely audible over the scraping sounds of their eating. A comfortable silence had settled over them and Feyre just let herself enjoy all the places hers and Rhys’ body touched.

Slowly, a soft ache started to grow in her muscles and she knew that in a few hours, every movement of her legs would be hurting like someone had set her muscles on fire. She tucked one leg beneath the other, hissing softly at the painful stretch and pull and turned to glare at Mor.

Mor’s mouth was full of food, but her eyebrows shot up at the dirty look and she managed to get out a muffled, "What?"

"I’m never going to the gym again." Feyre simply said, taking another bite of her food and turning to glare at the tv screen.

Cassian let out a barked laugh and she felt Rhys’ body slightly tremble as he too chuckled.

Feyre swallowed her food and pursed her lips. "Not everyone here is a freaking professional bodybuilder, okay?"

Mor snickered, having finally freed up her mouth. "You did like twenty squats and spent how much time on the treadmill? Fifteen minutes?"

Feyre’s mouth parted at the betrayal and she leaned away from Mor, her back brushing against Rhys’ chest and arm. "Seriously? I was on that torture machine for at least twenty five minutes and I did  _way_  more than twenty squats."

"Twenty-four." Rhys said softly, his breath tickling her ear and causing shivers to run down her arms and spine.

She spun around, surprised to find him that close and blinked up at him. She barely managed to open her mouth, when Cassian slapped his thigh and let out another loud laugh, "If she wasn’t into you, this would be really creepy. You know that, right?"

"It’s still creepy." Mor muttered, shoving more food into her mouth and shaking her head in amusement. "Kind of sad, but most definitely creepy."

But Feyre’s lips were twitching. She looked at Rhys and licked her lips. "You counted?"

He shrugged his shoulders, giving her a roguish grin. "I thought I might make myself useful if I kept staring at you."

She let out a laugh, leaning back into the sofa cushions and dug back into her food. There was something soft on his face, those dark blue eyes fixed on her smile and Feyre felt her heart thud hard against her ribs.

It took her a moment to realise that she had stopped eating. She was so focused on the feeling of his gaze on her face, that she hadn’t been moving, had barely been breathing.

Rhys’ leg nudged hers softly. She didn’t turn her face towards him, but her smile quirked up. His hand came up to rest on her knee and squeezed lightly and Feyre finally gave in. She turned to face him, not knowing what they were doing, but smiling up at him.

His own smile was dazzling. So soft and full of a look that made Feyre’s heart squeeze almost painfully. She felt her throat close up and she reached up to place her hand on top of his. Her fingers slid over his knuckles, sliding into the spaces between his and Rhys let out a soft sigh.

"Ugh." Cassian groaned, breaking them out of their dazed state. "Actually watching you guys make out is better than this."

He sounded mildly nauseous, but amusement danced in his eyes. Rhys rolled his own in that over-the-top manner that only he managed to make look good and twisted his hand to so that they were palm to palm and closed his fingers around hers.

"Shut up, Cassian." Feyre muttered. When she twisted back in her seat, she saw that Mor was looking at them with a soft, wistful smile and then, their eyes met and Mor gave Feyre an "I told you so"-look.

Feyre just shrugged and finished the rest of her food. She was almost sorry to let go of his hand, but as she slid out of his grasp, she let her fingertips slide up his palm and the inside of his wrist. She felt him shudder under her touch and that was good enough for her to finally let go of him.

By the time they were done with lunch, Feyre felt like she had been run over with a truck. Her legs, arms and back ached and she wanted nothing more than a good long soak in a hot bath. And maybe bubbles to entertain her. However, she needed to get home for that.

Mor was actually the first one suggest leaving. She didn’t live far from Cassian, unlike Feyre and Rhys. "Cassian can take you home." Mor suggested, but Feyre shook her head.

"I’ll just call an uber, don’t worry."

"I just called one. We can share." Rhys said and Feyre nodded.

She wasn’t sure if she wanted to go home alone and rest up or for Rhys to come home with her. Either way, she didn’t mind his company. They headed out the apartment soon after.

And then the three of them were back in the elevator.

It was funny how a few hours could change so much. When they had been driving up, the air had been thick with tension and Feyre had felt so nervous she might have thrown up. Now, she felt a different kind of nervous and even the tension in the air was different. It was something softer, something that promised soft touches, tentative glances, flushed cheeks and pounding hearts.

It felt like taking a swim on a summer’s day. Like jumping into cold water without knowing how deep it was. It was the excitement she had longed for, for so long. And she couldn’t believe that she felt it now. With Rhys.

She couldn’t believe that he felt it, too. That her touch made his breathing come out uneven. That her smile could make his heart beat stumble. That her kiss could make him forget their surroundings.

A word floated around the edges of her mind, but she wasn’t ready to think it. Wasn’t ready to acknowledge what these feelings meant. She just wanted to bask in the glory of this moment. Of this impossible moment. When Mor left the elevator first and Rhys tentatively reached for her hand and she slipped her fingers through his, gripping it tightly.

They walked out of the building together into the blinding sunlight and it felt like the sun itself was blessing them.

Mor turned, her eyes finding their clasped hands and she let out a mockingly exasperated sigh.

"It’s nothing serious, my ass." She muttered, then spoke louder. "Well, I think that’s my cue to leave." She brushed a kiss to Rhys’ cheek, whispering something Feyre couldn’t hear and then enveloped Feyre into a quick hug, muttering, "I told you."

Before Feyre could roll her eyes or come up with a retort, Mor skipped down the street, blonde hair bouncing and reflecting the merry rays of the sun. Rhys was looking at his phone, when he squeezed her hand softly and said, "The car is here."

So, they made their way to the car. Rhys let go of her hand only to open the door and with a flourish, waved for her to get in first. She chuckled at his antics, but obliged him.

Feyre didn’t listen as he and the driver talked and when the car started to move, Rhys once again took her hand and pulled it onto his lap. When he spoke next, his voice was low, soft and filled with wonder, "I can’t believe this is actually happening."

Feyre looked down at their hands, at the thumb that stroked softly over her knuckles and smiled. "What do you think is happening, Rhys?"

Her tone was teasing, but when their gazes met, her stomach twisted. His eyes were full of longing and a tenderness that it made Feyre want to cry.

"Don’t play with my heart, Feyre darling." His tone was low and with an underlying edge that made Feyre grip his hand tighter.

"Why?" She breathed, leaning closer and feeling his breath on her lips. "What are you going to do about it?"

He let out a soft groan, pulling her hand towards him until she fell into his chest and his lips were on hers. The kiss wasn’t like the slow tender ones they had shared in Cassian’s apartment. It was hard and desperate and when Rhys’ tongue met hers, she let go of his hand only to run her own through his hair and hold him closer.

 

**Author's Note:**

> pls gimme feedback
> 
> also, if you have any dumb ideas like this, lets talk (tumblr: @quakeriders)


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